For Out of Flames is Not Always Ash
by x Bout as Stable as the Wind x
Summary: Peter Pan, still experimenting with the magic of Neverland, accidentally brings the first Lost Boy, Felix, to the island. [AU]


**A/N: heyo! here's a oneshot of how Felix came to Neverland - note this is AU in which Pan isn't Malcolm.**

* * *

"It's going to explode, isn't it?"

"Come on, Tink, have a little faith. And trust. And…"

"Don't." Tink held up her hand to stop the boy from continuing. "Just… don't. I know you're getting the hang of things, Pan, but… that doesn't mean things still won't go wrong."

Pan rolled his eyes at the fairy's pessimistic attitude, hands still hovering over the small campfire in front of them, the teen channeling Neverland's magic into the flames, controlling them and contorting them into spiraling shapes and making the orange tongues leap up before dying down at intervals. The blaze gave off black and white sparks that Tink danced away from with a skeptical frown on her face. "Pan…"

"It's _under control_ , Tink, bloody hell," Pan grumbled, shooting her a glare that showed just how unappreciated her doubts were. Upon seeing the scowl, and the slight hurt beneath the angry gaze, the fairy's own expression softened a bit. "Sorry, sorry," she muttered, to which her companion nodded, satisfied, and went back to focusing on pouring magic into the fire.

Silence for several minutes. Then…

"It's going to explode, isn't it?"

"Tink!"

At the same time the fifteen-year-old let out his exasperated protest, the fire erupted into an inferno, knocking both to the ground, Tink's eyes widening as she automatically expelled some pixie dust over the both of them to create a protective dome. She looked to her side to find that Pan had thrown his thick pied cloak over himself to protect him from the raging flames. "Pan!"

The boy flipped himself over to face her, face streaked with dirt; but a triumphant grin shining through the grime. "It worked!" the immortal cheered, jumping to his feet and ignoring Tink's annoyed huff as she too stood up. The fairy looked around with a lifted brow. "Um… Pan? Nothing happened. Except, you know, the fire _exploding_ …"

"Hush." Pan's hand slapped over her mouth eagerly, to which she indignantly scowled at him, gaze softening at the anticipating gleam in his eye as he turned to her. "Watch."

And watch she did, as suddenly, all those little black and white sparks lifted up from the ground, thousands of them, and began swirling all around; and they slowly morphed into shapes, the shapes of humans, dancing crazily all around the out-of-control bonfire. Flipping through the air and doing cartwheels, hooting and hollering and making a huge racket. Banging sticks together and waving their arms wildly. Shacking rackets and tambourines. A real chaotic celebration, and Tink was tempted to clamp her hands over her ears while Pan looked around at the display that circled around them and the fire with a broad grin and bright eyes.

"Where… where exactly did you take this scene from?!" Tink finally asked, having to yell above the noise of the dancing folk. They were clear enough, but semi-transparent, almost like ghosts. They weren't actually on the island, but their image was; sort of like a live camera, holograms. Brought for entertainment with Pan's magic.

Pan pointed up to a batch of constellations up in the Neverland's strange night skies. "Some dark little corner of the Enchanted Forest!" he replied, also having to shout but seeming thrilled at the all the rumpus. "An annual festival thrown by a little backwash village."

Tink dodged a screeching young man that was throwing himself around like a drunkard around the fire, even though she knew the image would've just gone right through her. "Why are they all wearing masks?!" She gazed at the crude papier-mâché coverings that hid everyone's faces, the masks of foxes and bears and other animals and beasts, and found them quite creepy.

"It's all part of the fun, Tink!" Pan laughed, enjoying the show. The teen stepped nearer to the roaring magic fire, which acted like a sort of projector for the display, and watched with darkening eyes. "There's so little fun here nowadays," he added, quieter, and Tink shot the boy a sympathetic look before sweeping her eyes at the surrounding jungle of Neverland. A paradise turned prison.

"Well…" She consented, for Pan's sake. "I suppose it's not _too_ bad."

But Pan didn't hear her over the sudden screeching of all the masked dancers as they began beating their breasts and stomping their feet, screaming out some sort of strange ode that sent chills up Tink's spine and exhilaration flashing across Pan's face.

Soon enough, something caught the boy's eye though, that took his attention away from the festival as a whole. One of the masked figures was not dancing, but hiding in the shadows outside the ring of crazy frolickers. Eventually, someone, wearing so many feathers over his face and head that Pan couldn't even tell if was supposed to be an animal, walked over to the lurking boy in the fox mask, and grabbed him roughly by the arm. Completely focused on this scene now, Pan automatically took a step forward as the fox boy – older than Pan, obviously, but still not an adult – was dragged protesting into the ring of dancers, and was swept away in the mayhem, stumbling over his clumsy feet, shoved back and forth by jeering, mocking adults that laughed at the boy for not wanting to dance.

By now Tink had caught sight of this little rift in the show; and the way Pan had frozen in place, emerald eyes locked onto the scene, the boy's face a perfect mask of stone emotionlessness. Slowly, getting that sinking feeling in the pit of her gut whenever the boy got like this, Tink walked over to him, and put a hand on her shoulder. "Turn it off," she advised quietly, her voice somehow carrying over shouts of the festival despite merely murmuring. "Pan. Let's do something else. _Pan_."

Pan wasn't hearing her; he was watching the fox boy suddenly get thrown to the ground, and watching the dancing wolves and owls and bears – their masks suddenly gave them a deadly, evil look to them – trample the tall but skinny teen into the dirt. The fox boy gave out a protesting shout and started dragging himself away. The feathered adult who'd pulled him into the mess in the first place marched over, grabbed the fox boy's ankle, and started dragging him to the fire.

Tink's eyes widened, and her grip on Pan's shoulder tightened; she shook the teen urgently. "Pan, turn it off," she commanded, watching those green eyes begin to spark with a new, dangerous light. A scarred light. "Pan. _Pan_!"

The fox boy was dumped in front of the bonfire, and the dancing had stopped. Now, everyone began pumping their fists in the air, screeching for something different. For blood. The fox boy was pulled to his feet by two large, burly men; even though the boy was taller than them, they were much stronger. They took him by the shoulders and arms, and held him in front of the burning flames. The feathered adult started issuing out orders, pointing to the fox boy, and then at the fire.

"Pan." Now Tink tried dragging the boy away from the scene; and when the teen remained rooted to that one spot, the fairy dashed over to the bonfire and tried using her own feeble magic to end the display. Nothing worked. She dumped pixie dust over it. Still no change. Tinkerbell turned around to see the image of the fox boy being thrown into the raging fire while the feathered adult and the others all cheered, and Pan automatically lunging forward towards the scene. "Peter!"

The fairy reached the boy's side just as Pan's fingers slipped through the fox boy's flailing form, which hit the fire the second after; and the instant that happened, hot, red and black, raging magic exploded from Pan's form as he let out an enraged, hoarse shout of protest and fury that soon became the tortured howl of some wounded, beaten animal forced to relive years of torture and abuse. The magic immediately extinguished the fire, and knocked several trees and smaller plants backwards; Tink herself went flying back into the dirt, skidding painfully along the ground before she dug her nails into the ground and slammed into a large boulder so hard it left her blind and dazed for a few moments.

When her vision finally returned to, Tink slowly sat up, shaken as she looked around at the decimation of the nearby wildlife, and Pan's looming form standing with his back towards her as he stood completely still in the middle of the blackened circle of ground, the ashes of the fire scattered all around, fists clenched and head slightly bowed.

The fairy wasted no time in getting to her feet, brushing dirt off her dress and leggings; and then she slowly walked towards the boy as she bit her lip. "Peter?" she called softly, fingertips grazing his shoulder – with her magic she could sense just the slightest tremble run through the teen's lanky frame, and her expression softened. "Peter, there was nothing you could do…"

At that Pan spun around on his heels to face her, the blackened embers of the bonfire sparking to life a bit and casting an eerie, orange glow cutting through the darkness and lighting up the boy's flashing eyes. He stared darkly at the fairy for several minutes silently, to which time Tink spent looking right back just as quietly, waiting for her companion to talk. His face boasted rage and fury and it almost looked as if he'd strike the fairy right then and there. But she'd spent enough time with the youth to see in between the lines, behind the deadly façade, and to see the gleam in his eyes was caused by more than just a strange reflection of burning coal flickering across his orbs. In a rare display of affection, one slender hand moved from his shoulder and rested against his cheek and neck; and for once, Pan didn't object.

Tink gazed at him for a few more minutes before shaking her head slowly. "Peter…"

At that moment, there was a sudden chorus of loud squawks and protesting screeches from some Neverfowl nearby, seconds before a flock of the large black birds took off into the air, letting loose their warning cries. Pan's attention snapped away from Tink and to the sight, and the fairy bit back a sigh when the boy – now brought back to reality – roughly jerked her hand away from him, deciding the moment was over. "Something's up with Skull Rock," he stated aloud, nodding towards where the birds were fleeing from. "That's their warning cry."

Tink's hands now fidgeted at her side restlessly as she nodded, wanting to say more about the event that had just happened but letting it slide for now. "Maybe it's the pirates again," she mused. "If so, they'll just anchor offshore for a bit and then be on their way. They always do…"

"No." Pan interrupted her suddenly, holding up a hand to signal that she be silent for a moment. Obediently, Tink's voice trailed off, and she watched the boy curiously. After a moment of thought, he shook his head. "No… something's different. The island… I can sense it, with the magic, something is off."

And with that, the boy took off running into the dark jungle.

"Pe… Pan! Pan, wait!" Exasperated, Tinkerbell didn't hesitate to rush after him, cursing beneath her breath as big fern-like leaves and vines all slapped her face and arms within seconds of entering the wilderness. She'd already lost sight of her quarry, and Tink threw some pixie dust up into the air, creating a little illuminating orb to light her way towards the path she knew would take her to Skull Rock. For a moment, she wondered if maybe Pan had decided to fly, and her gaze darted to the skies; but no. No, Pan wouldn't risk that, not with this urgent new development and when he still hadn't mastered the magic of Neverland yet. She went back to searching for him on ground level, calling out once in a while.

She finally caught up to him when she saw the boy crouching on a rock at the beginning of the Shore of the Lost, the little beach that one needed to cross to get into the water – the waters that took one to Skull Rock several yards off shore. Tink marched on over with the decision to give the youth a piece of her mind for taking off like that and leaving her hanging; but before she could even utter one syllable, Pan spun around at her with eyes lit up with something other than anger this time. Eagerness. A bit of bewilderment. And _wonder_ , a look Tink hadn't seen in the teen for quite a while – the sight of it was enough to make her stop short and stare at him, stunned.

Pan seemed frustrated that she'd stopped such a distance away, and beckoned her forward. "Come look!" he whisper-shouted, before going back to staring at whatever it was that had captured his attention on the Shore. Warily, Tink crept forward until she was by his side; and then, once again, she froze, eyes widening. "What… what is that?"

Silly question. She knew 'what' it was quite clearly: it was the fox boy, from the magical display only minutes ago, sprawled out on the beach and not moving.

After a moment of gaping, Tink shook herself. "Is… is he dead?"

"Dunno," Pan replied in a murmur, already flipping the hood of his cloak over his head and face. "One way to find out I suppose." With that, the boy leapt noiselessly off the boulder, and strode over to the fox boy's body. Tink, after hesitating a moment, scurried after him.

This close, they could finally get a good look of the tall teen's form; shaggy blonde hair stuck every which way, an angular jaw and thin lips were visible beneath the large fox mask, and the boy was a good two inches taller than Pan. Intrigued, Pan went close enough to the body – not dead, but unconscious – to tap it with the toe of his boot; and smirk a bit. Tinkerbell watched with an equally-curious but more cautious gaze. "You must've brought him here when you touched him, and then expelled all that magic," she breathed, trying in vain to keep the amazement out of her voice. "This place… _you_ , Peter… its more powerful than we thought."

But Pan wasn't thinking about _how_ the fox boy had arrived on Neverland; he was more focused on the fact that he was _here_ , the first person other than those ragtag pirates to arrive on the island in quite some time. "He's better off here," he decided right away, voice firm and steeled. "They would've killed him if he hadn't arrived here – there's no point in him going back there, he'll just be hurt more." Suddenly, the boy looked up with a wide grin. "Can we keep him?"

Tink rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. "He's not a _pet_ , Pan…"

At that moment, there was a groan from the fox boy, and Pan turned his full attention back to the tall victim as he crouched down just above his face and lifted a brow. "I think he's waking u…"

Pan was suddenly cut off when a bruised fist flew up and caught him in the jaw; the younger boy was sent sprawling backwards as the fox boy jumped to his feet, towering over Tink on the beach as he wheeled on her with a feral growl. The fairy instinctively backed up, even as her hand flew to her dagger to protect herself; but there was no need. Pan had recovered fairly quickly and easily tackled the fox boy back down into the sand. And then Tink could only watch, wide eyed, as the two youths rolled around on the beach, wrestling with each and throwing the occasional punch and kick. For several minutes, Tink couldn't figure out why Pan wasn't using his magic to instantly subdue his opponent; until she caught sight of the smirk on his face. Oh. Pan was having _fun_ – he even laughed out loud at some point, and that was why she decided not to interfere, and instead moved over to the rock Pan had been perched on before and sat down, watching the brawl silently.

After nearly fifteen more minutes of scrapping against each other Pan shoved the fox boy off of him and stood up quickly, holding up a hand to signal that they were taking a time out now; and strangely, the fox boy obeyed, also standing up but not attacking, simply watching the younger boy with dark eyes behind his animal mask.

After a moment, Pan lowered his hand and folded his arms over his chest, his own emerald eyes shining beneath the shadows of his still-intact hood. "You're a good fighter," the youth commented with a light accent, tilting his head as he studied the newcomer. "You'd survive well on Neverland."

Tink could see that Pan was intending to keep this boy on Neverland with them for good, and opened her mouth to protest; before thinking again and then shutting her lips, deciding to see how this played out.

The fox boy crossed his arms as well, frowning but at least not snarling anymore. After a long period of not responding, a low, drawling voice came from the teen's lips. "Neverland… is that what this place is? How did I get here?"

"I brought you," Pan answered instantly and firmly, seeming to already have forgotten he'd done it completely by accident. Arrogant boy, Tink thought, but with fondness. "I saved you from the people in your village. Tell me, why did they try to kill you?"

The fox boy's gaze darkened. "It was an annual festival," he answered in his smooth, deep tones. "That the people there throw to try and ask the gods to return the children who'd gone missing in the haunted forest nearby the past winter to them."

Pan lifted a brow, though the expression couldn't be seen beneath his hood. "Lots of children go missing each year?"

The fox boy nodded. "But it's not like the people there care; the festival is meant to ask for the children's safe return, but they treat it like a party. That is why I refused to dance tonight."

Listening, Pan studied the older boy hard for several minutes before coming to a conclusion. "You find it so disrespectful…" he ventured. "…because _you_ lost someone this past winter."

No answer from the fox boy, and Pan knew he'd gotten it right. The youth nodded to himself as if suddenly deciding a very trying matter. "You will not return there," he stated in a tone that left no room for argument. "You will stay here on Neverland, with me and Tinkerbell." He nodded towards an unamused but still silent fairy nearby. "Here you will never grow up, and never suffer at the hands of an adult again. You will stay young, forever and ever, and there are no rules."

"Wait… you and her… forever…?"

"We don't bite," Pan stated with a smirk. "Consider us the… home office."

The fox boy's gaze narrowed. "How do I know I can trust you?"

Pan grinned. "Simple enough: you don't. But it's either stay here with me, or go back to your village; where I assume there is nothing left for you. Come now… is it really _that_ hard of a decision?"

It wasn't, or maybe the fox boy had less common sense than most would assume, because only minutes later, he was nodding in _agreement_. "I will stay here…" he decided, untying the strands of his fox mask. "…on Neverland. With you and… her."

The mask came off to reveal blue eyes, the narrowed face of a seventeen-year-old just on the brink of eighteen, and a scar near his right eye so red it must be fresh, from the dance tonight. A glance at the crack in the mask confirmed such a theory. "My name is Felix."

Pan looked at the boy's face with approval – it wore the expression of a survivor – and flipped the hood of his cloak down to reveal gleaming eyes and a broad smirk. "Peter Pan," he introduced lightly, scanning the fox boy – Felix – up and down a moment before turning on his heel and starting to walk. "Come on, Felix," he beckoned, not looking over his shoulder, everything about him expecting complete obedience, submissive behavior, and companionship.

Felix lagged behind a moment, not looking offended by Pan's nature but in fact amused, as Tinkerbell walked over to him with a cordial smile. She pat the tall boy on the shoulder, and smirked a bit herself.

"Well then, Felix… welcome to Neverland."


End file.
